


isolation

by stupidfearless



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Formula 2 RPF
Genre: Blow Jobs, Explicit Sexual Content, Hand Jobs, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, clearly all i want to do is suck marcus off and it's becoming an issue, marcus posted an obscene picture and i just found out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-22 18:34:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30042981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stupidfearless/pseuds/stupidfearless
Summary: “You absolute wanker, would you just please get off your arse and make me look hot for Instagram?” Marcus pleads.Callum rolls his eyes, but he sighs, giving in as he starts to slowly peel himself off the couch. “Fine, but I maintain that this is ridiculous and you owe me one.”or; Callum and Marcus are stuck in isolation in Italy together when COVID hits, and Marcus asks Callum to take a thirst trap for his Instagram.
Relationships: Marcus Armstrong & Callum Ilott, Marcus Armstrong/Callum Ilott
Comments: 3
Kudos: 88





	isolation

**Author's Note:**

> i was attacked on a particularly vulnerable Saturday night by Lauren and [this](https://www.instagram.com/p/B-Snwj9FML4/) picture and i just couldn't help myself. chaos ensued.

“Come on, I just need you to take one picture! It’s not as if either of us have better things to do right now,” Marcus whines, phone in hand as he pouts at Callum from across the room.

“I can list about ten things that would be better than taking your picture, number one of which is staying right here and becoming one with this couch,” Callum drawls. He settles in more firmly, head resting on the arm rest, legs stretched out in front of him, eyes closing as he ignores Marcus putting on his best puppy-dog eyes.

Callum regrets taking his eyes off Marcus almost immediately when Callum feels his arm being tugged harshly, almost falling off the couch in the process as Marcus tries to move him. 

“You absolute wanker, would you just please get off your arse and make me look hot for Instagram?” Marcus pleads.

Callum rolls his eyes, but he sighs, giving in as he starts to slowly peel himself off the couch. It's not like he can escape Marcus now that they’re all stuck inside forever, and Callum knows just how persistent Marcus can be. “Fine, but I maintain that this is ridiculous, and you owe me one.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever, just move,” Marcus complains, pressing his phone into Callum’s hands as he gestures to follow him outside.

Callum purses his lips as he watches Marcus get set up, stands there with a hand on his hip, eyebrows raising when Marcus starts undressing. Sure, it's been abnormally warm in Italy for this time of year, but it's still March, and there’s no reasonable justification for why Marcus is now shirtless and laying himself down on a yoga mat as if he'd been tanning all afternoon. 

Callum's eyes widen when Marcus rucks his shorts up his thighs, and Callum can barely hear Marcus telling him to start taking pictures over the rushing in his ears. It takes Marcus throwing his shirt in Callum's face for Callum to shake out of it, bringing the phone in front of his face as he commits himself to getting this done quickly.

He looks through the screen to try and frame Marcus, and it must be a combination of the expanse of skin Marcus has on display and the few weeks of isolation they’ve experienced, but it has Callum flushing and lust stirring in his gut. He’s seen Marcus like this a hundred times, but he’s never _looked_ , never let himself appreciate the definition of Marcus' legs or the cut of Marcus' hips or the way his shoulders flare out from his waist, making him look broader than he has any right to be.

Callum closes his eyes at the suggestive thoughts, takes a deep breath and tries to push through to get at least one shot that Marcus would approve of so that Callum can escape to his room as soon as possible and sort through both his brain and the slight tightening in his pants.

It's only when Marcus reaches up, making grabby hands for the phone to see what Callum has so far, that Callum realizes exactly what the picture is missing. It’s _obscene_ , is the thing, having Marcus spread out like this, but he did tell Callum that he wanted to look hot for Instagram, so Callum directs Marcus to keep his hands above his head, concentrates on the definition of his biceps and the new stretch of the muscles across his chest. 

Callum can barely focus on taking the picture with how dry his mouth suddenly feels, but when Marcus tips his head back to look at Callum, tendons in his neck bulging and jaw looking like it could cut glass, the vulnerability of his position makes Callum snap. Before he knows what he’s doing, he finds himself throwing Marcus' phone on the table next to him and stalking over to where Marcus is still lounging in the sun. Callum sinks to his knees between Marcus' legs, and Marcus is staring at him, mouth gaping as he takes in the dark look in Callum's eyes.

"I'm not letting you post that on Instagram." Callum's got his hands wrapped around Marcus' ankles, thumb brushing up the inside of his legs, and the soft touch has Marcus shuddering despite the fire in his eyes that tells Callum that Marcus is about to bite back.

"Well, that's just rude, why bother getting my nipples out when it’s not nearly the weather for it if I can’t share it with the rest of the world?" Marcus is breathing heavily as Callum's fingers brush further up his calves, and he spreads his thighs to accommodate the touch, shorts failing to hide how Callum's hands on his skin are affecting him.

“I'm not letting you post it because there's no way in hell I'm letting anyone else see you like this," Callum confides as his hands find Marcus' thighs, leaning forward so their hips press together. They groan simultaneously at the feeling, both already half hard in their shorts in anticipation, and Callum leans over Marcus further to brush his lips against his ear. "I'm the only one who gets to see you laid out like this, yeah?"

Marcus' hips buck up against Callum's, both at the brush of air across his neck and the suggestion behind the words, and it's all the invitation Callum needs to attach his lips to Marcus's neck and move one hand to his dick, rubbing his length through the flimsy material.

Callum leaves as many marks as he can, trails bites and kisses and bruises all the way down Marcus' chest and arms, and Marcus is moaning too loudly for where they are, his hands buried in Callum's hair, hanging on for dear life.

When Callum finally gets Marcus' shorts pulled down, he looks up to find Marcus leaning on one elbow, watching him, the other hand digging into Callum's shoulder. Callum is reassured to see only lust and anticipation written on Marcus's face, but he still wants to be sure. "Are you good?" he asks.

"Callum, if you don't touch me in the next thirty seconds, I'll probably come all over your face anyways just thinking about it," Marcus breathes out, desperate for anything Callum is willing to give him.

Callum presses his forehead to Marcus' hip, a full bellied laugh running through him, and it reminds him that this is Marcus, his best friend, and there’s nothing they can do together that will change that. He presses a kiss to Marcus' hip bone, muttering about how illegal it is to look like Marcus does, and then Callum is licking a strip up Marcus' dick, paying close attention to where Marcus is leaking. 

Callum sucks the head of Marcus' cock into his mouth and sinks down slowly, Marcus muffling his whines into the arm he's got thrown over his face. Callum bobs his head, getting used to the weight of Marcus’ cock in his mouth as he tries hard to remember everything that’s ever felt nice when he had his own dick sucked. He keeps his teeth tucked away as he starts bobbing his head, overestimating his own abilities once or twice when he chokes on Marcus’ length, but the sensation has Marcus biting into his arm to stifle his cries, so Callum dutifully swallows down his own coughs and picks up the pace. 

It’s not the most refined blowjob in the world, though Marcus doesn’t seem to mind, hips pushing up to chase the heat of Callum’s mouth. Callum has spit dribbling down to meet his fingers where they’re wrapped around the base of Marcus’ cock, and he pulls off to give his aching jaw a break, taking over with his hand. 

The wet, slick glide has Marcus keening. “Close, Callum, don’t stop.”

“Yeah, gonna come all over yourself? Should take a picture of that so you can show everyone how wrecked you are just for me.” Callum tightens his grip on Marcus’ dick while his other hand scratches up Marcus’ chest, leaving behind fading red lines that he follows with his tongue. 

Marcus is hanging on the edge when Callum’s hair brushes against his abs. Callum is jerking Marcus off and suckling another hickey into his skin, and it’s the idea of everyone seeing his upper body as it currently is, a mosaic of claiming marks from Callum’s mouth and hands, that has Marcus reaching his high, cum pooling in the dips between his muscles as Callum’s fingers work him through it. 

Callum has one hand stuffed down his own shorts before Marcus has even finished coming, and it takes an embarrassingly short amount of time before Callum is releasing into his pants with a growl of Marcus’ name, eyes glued to the picture of Marcus ruined that is laid out in front of him. 

A gust of wind has the two of them struggling to their feet, chasing each other back into the house, Marcus using his shirt to wipe his stomach clean and Callum grimacing at the stickiness in his pants. 

“Not quite what I had in mind when you asked me to take your picture,” Callum teases, wry smile on his face. 

Marcus smiles hesitantly back. “That’s not a bad thing, right? You’re not going to freak out and make this weird?”

“No! No, not at all. I was actually going to suggest we continue this in the shower?” Callum tugs Marcus close, arms wrapping around his waist. “My balls are gonna get stuck together if I don’t get cleaned up.”

They laugh together imagining Callum’s pain. “Well, we can’t let that happen, can we?” Marcus presses a chaste kiss to Callum’s lips, their first, before peeling his body from Callum’s. “I’m definitely on board with this plan, but if I make it to the shower first, I’m posting the picture,” Marcus challenges, already looking like he’s going to make a run for it. 

Callum grins brightly. “You’re on.”

**Author's Note:**

> please feel free to yell with me about callum & mick & marcus on tumblr [@acrosstobear](https://acrosstobear.tumblr.com/)!!


End file.
